You Look Good in Red
by Ster J
Summary: Deciding on a new uniform design is a pain for Kirk, until Spock gives him some inspiration. SLASH


Title: You Look Good in Red

Author: Ster Julie

Codes: K/S; Good in Red

Rating: PG

Part 1 of 1

Summary: Deciding on a new uniform design is a pain for Kirk, until Spock gives him some inspiration.

--ooOoo--

Admiral Kirk grumbled to himself as he slogged home after yet another fruitless day of debates, discussion and one honest-to-john fist fight over the newest uniform design.

"The squeaky wheel gets to chair the committee," Doctor McCoy had reminded Kirk. "You yelled the loudest over those God-awful pajama uniforms we have to wear, so now you have to design something better, something classy yet functional."

"'Something classy yet functional,'" Kirk repeated sarcastically. He missed a step and ended plunging his foot into a puddle of slush, a rare occurrence in San Francisco. "Must be that time of the century," he groused over the weather. "Functional, yes," Kirk thought as he continued his journey with one wet, cold boot, "for all races."

Kirk remembered the discussion he had had with Spock regarding Vulcan textiles. The thought of that conversation brought a smile to the admiral's face. Spock had mentioned that he had not graduated at the top of his class at Starfleet Academy because he had too many demerits for being out of uniform. Spock preferred to wear his Vulcan underclothing instead of the Starfleet-issued skivvies that provided more irritation than warmth. McCoy had accurately predicted that Spock would put Vulcan drawers in their stockings that Christmas. Ever since Kirk experienced the wonderful feel of Vulcan undies, he used his influence until Vulcan became the exclusive suppliers of Starfleet underwear.

Then and there, the admiral decided that, no matter what uniform design was chosen, Vulcan would definitely get the contract for supplying fabric.

Actually, the basic uniform design was finished. Kirk knew that Chekov would approve of the design of the new uniform. The jacket looked vaguely Russian to Kirk with that one shoulder fastener. What was holding the process up now was the decision on the final color of the uniform. All black had been proposed, but Kirk had nixed that. It reminded the admiral too much of the pseudo-Nazi SS uniform he once wore on Ekos. Gray was also proposed, but Kirk didn't think it made enough impact. The admiral was leaning toward a deep blue, for very personal reasons. It reminded him of Spock's favorite Vulcan robe. Kirk really liked how the deep blue color complimented Spock's skin tone. The admiral also thought that blue would compliment McCoy's eyes, Scotty's ruddy complexion, and even bring out the green in Kirk's own eyes, but he also knew that he couldn't use any of those arguments to defend his position. He tried to think of more noble reasons, like blue was the traditional color of sailors and airmen in some Earth cultures, that blue was reminiscent of Earth's oceans and sky--but those reasons were just too Terra-centric.

The Tellarites suggested the medium blue of the Federation flag, but the Andorians complained that that particular shade of blue clashed with their skin tone. Besides, it would be offensive to them to wear a uniform with the same color as their blood.

"Blood," Kirk mused. "Whose blood?" An image of a fleet clad in the fuchsia pink of Klingon blood made Kirk's step falter. What color? Vulcanoid green? Tellarite brown? Yellow was out. It spoke of cowardice to Kirk. Besides, the fleet would look like a bunch of bananas in his honest opinion. Silver? Too cheesy. Kirk hated those silver cadet uniforms he wore in the Academy. They were itchy and hard to keep clean.

Rounding a corner, Kirk nearly ran into a group of carolers singing the joys of the season despite the sleety cold.

"Oh, yeah," he thought morosely. "It's Christmas Eve." He stepped around the merrymakers, crossed the street and entered his building.

"Purple?" he thought as he rode the lift to his apartment. "It's regal, it's . . . "

Kirk walked into his own door as the sensor failed to register his presence.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed.

Soon, a deep, sultry voice could be heard from the other side of the door.

"Have you been a good little boy?" it asked. "I have something very long and very hard to put into your . . . stocking."

The door opened to a most amazing sight. There stood Spock, clad head to toe in white-trimmed cranberry velvet (_sans_ beard), a Santa hat perched jauntily on his head, and a "barber pole" candy cane in his hand.

Kirk's jaw dropped. He circled his Vulcan, examining Spock from all angles. "Problem solved!" he thought.

"Spock," Kirk began, his eyes sparkling, "have I ever told you?"

"Told me what, Jim?" Spock asked as he gave the cane a lick.

"You look good in red!"

END


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